Ultimate High
by finkpishnets
Summary: Oneshot. Sequel to 'The Closest Thing To Happy'. They’d taken to spending more time with each other and less with the rest of their friends now that everything was up in the air and nobody was sure who they were supposed to be allying themselves with.


**Title:** Ultimate High

**Author:** finkpishnets

**Fandom:** SKINS

**Rating:** T

**Pairing:** Chris/Jal (slight mention of Tony/Cassie)

**Spoilers:** All (but only because of its prequels)

It was the first time he'd ever been in her _house_, let alone her _room_ and he wasn't exactly sure what to make of it. He wasn't surprised to find it completely immaculate, but all the purple and the little lights and shit were a lot more girly than he'd have expected. She was perched on the edge of her bed whilst he sat crossed leg on the floor and, according to his watch, they hadn't spoken in six minutes and forty five, no, forty six seconds. That may be a record for him.

They'd taken to spending more time with each other and less with the rest of their friends now that everything was up in the air and nobody was quite sure who they were supposed to be allying themselves with. The whole Tony and Cassie thing was a bit too much for Chris to take in but he knew better than anyone that when you fell in love nothing ever made much sense. That's why he's sitting here, staring at the carpet and trying to avoid the gaze of the girl he's sort of rather crazy about. Jal knows all this – he's spent the last few months following her everywhere and stealing as many drunken kisses as he can, after all – but now he's actually _told_ her, actually said the three words that change whole fucking lives.

He doesn't regret it for a second.

Except now she's not looking at him and he thinks that it's either because she's disgusted or because she doesn't believe him and neither seem that great a prospect. He really, _really_ wishes she would say something to break the silence, even if it is to tell him to get the fuck out of her house and never speak to her again. OK, he really doesn't want her to say that. It would break his heart.

He used to think he knew what it felt like to be heartbroken; when Angie had thrown him out of her house, more concerned with an arsehole who was definitely batting for the other team, he'd thought that that was it, that was what it felt like when someone pulled out your heart and stomped on it a thousand fucking times.

That was nothing compared to how he knows he's going to feel when Jal rejects him. _If_ Jal rejects him, he reminds himself, trying to think positively which is bloody hard when he has absolutely no clue what she's going to say.

She stands up and Chris follows her with his eyes, half bracing himself for a slap or a kick or some other form of violence that he knows Jal's not above using if she's seriously pissed off. He's surprised when she kneels down in front of him, all plain clothes and wide eyes and looking so insanely perfect to Chris that he actually catches his breath before scolding himself for being such a pussy.

They stare at each other for a few moments, some sort of twisted game in which neither is prepared to blink first and break the spell. For a moment Chris forgets that he's completely sober, completely clean and this isn't all some drug induced delusion. That kind of makes it harder. He wants so desperately to lean in and press his lips against hers but this has to be up to her so he just digs his nails into his palms and waits.

He's just about given up, resigning himself to the fact that in a minute he's going to have to get up and walk out, stuttering pointless apologies and gearing himself to face that they'll never be close again. Shit, it's never occurred to him that he could be about to lose his best friend as well!

The feel of skin on skin surprises him and he almost jumps away before he realises that it's Jal's hand on his cheek, the pads of her fingers drawing minute patterns. She's looking at him with a vulnerability that he's never seen in her before, one that he doubts she ever lets anyone see; she relies on her feisty, tough image to get her noticed alongside Michelle's sexiness and Cassie's strangeness, and right now he's not sure why because she has never, ever looked more beautiful.

"Really?" she asks, and Chris can do nothing more than nod his head in a way that must make him look like a complete idiot but he really doesn't care.

And then she's smiling and he thinks he can see a tear in the corner of her eye but before he can look too closely she's pressed her lips to his and then there's nothing but hands and tongues and touches that set his skin on fire, and there are...what do you call them?..._sodding__ butterflies_ in his tummy which are threatening to break loose, and this is _way_ better than any trip he's ever been on.

They break apart after a while when they're both in need of breath and Chris is happy to see that Jal is sporting a goofy grin to match his. He whispers 'I love you' in her ear, over and over again until she punches him half heartedly on the arm and tells him to shut up, blushing. He does but only so he can kiss her again, and again, and again...

Love, he decides, is fucking terrifying and fucking brilliant.

The ultimate high.


End file.
